t.
"Beautifulbutdangerous,"saidSandra,immediatelytalkingtoherhusbandinthepresenceofathirdperson.("Ah,anEnglishboyontour,"shethoughttoherself.)
AndEvanknewallthattoo.
Yes,heknewallthatandheadmiredher.Verypleasant,hethought,tohaveaffairs.Butforhimself,whatwithhisheight(Napoleonwasfivefeetfour,heremembered),hisbulk,hisinabilitytoimposehisownpersonality(andyetgreatmenareneededmorethanevernow,hesighed),itwasuseless.Hethrewawayhiscigar,wentuptoJacobandaskedhim,withasimplesortofsinceritywhichJacobliked,whetherhehadcomestraightoutfromEngland.
"HowveryEnglish!"Sandralaughedwhenthewaitertoldthemnextmorningthattheyounggentlemanhadleftatfivetoclimbthemountain."Iamsureheaskedyouforabath?"atwhichthewaitershookhishead,andsaidthathewouldaskthemanager.
"Youdonotunderstand,"laughedSandra."Nevermind."
Stretchedonthetopofthemountain,quitealone,Jacobenjoyedhimselfimmensely.Probablyhehadneverbeensohappyinthewholeofhislife.
ButatdinnerthatnightMr.WilliamsaskedhimwhetherhewouldliketoseethepaperthenMrs.Williamsaskedhim(astheystrolledontheterracesmoking—andhowcouldherefusethatman'scigar?)whetherhe'dseenthetheatrebymoonlightwhetherheknewEverardSherbornwhetherhereadGreekandwhether(Evanrosesilentlyandwentin)ifhehadtosacrificeoneitwouldbetheFrenchliteratureortheRussian?
"Andnow,"wroteJacobinhislettertoBonamy,"Ishallhavetoreadhercursedbook"—herTchekov,hemeant,forshehadlentithim.
Thoughtheopinionisunpopularitseemslikelyenoughthatbareplaces,fieldstoothickwithstonestobeploughed,tossingsea-meadowshalf-waybetweenEnglandandAmerica,suitusbetterthancities.
Thereissomethingabsoluteinuswhichdespisesqualification.Itisthiswhichisteasedandtwistedinsociety.Peoplecometogetherinaroom."Sodelighted,"sayssomebody,"tomeetyou,"andthatisalie.Andthen:"Ienjoythespringmorethantheautumnnow.Onedoes,Ithink,asonegetsolder."Forwomenarealways,always,alwaystalkingaboutwhatonefeels,andiftheysay"asonegetsolder,"theymeanyoutoreplywithsomethingquiteoffthepoint.
JacobsathimselfdowninthequarrywheretheGreekshadcutmarbleforthetheatre.ItishotworkwalkingupGreekhillsatmidday.Thewildredcyclamenwasouthehadseenthelittletortoiseshobblingfromclumptoclumptheairsmeltstrongandsuddenlysweet,andthesun,strikingonjaggedsplintersofmarble,wasverydazzlingtotheeyes.Composed,commanding,contemptuous,alittlemelancholy,andboredwithanaugustkindofboredom,therehesatsmokinghispipe.
Bonamywouldhavesaidthatthiswasthesortofthingthatmadehimuneasy—whenJacobgotintothedoldrums,lookedlikeaMargatefishermanoutofajob,oraBritishAdmiral.Youcouldn'tmakehimunderstandathingwhenhewasinamoodlikethat.Onehadbetterleavehimalone.Hewasdull.Hewasapttobegrumpy.
Hewasupveryearly,lookingatthestatueswithhisBaedeker.
SandraWentworthWilliams,rangingtheworldbeforebreakfastinquestofadventureorapointofview,allinwhite,notsoverytallperhaps,butuncommonlyupright—SandraWilliamsgotJacob'sheadexactlyonalevelwiththeheadoftheHermesofPraxiteles.Thecomparisonwasallinhisfavour.ButbeforeshecouldsayasinglewordhehadgoneoutoftheMuseumandlefther.
Still,aladyoffashiontravelswithmorethanonedress,andifwhitesuitsthemorninghour,perhapssandyyellowwithpurplespotsonit,ablackhat,andavolumeofBalzac,suittheevening.ThusshewasarrangedontheterracewhenJacobcamein.Verybeautifulshelooked.Withherhandsfoldedshemused,seemedtolistentoherhusband,seemedtowatchthepeasantscomingdownwithbrushwoodontheirbacks,seemedtonoticehowthehillchangedfrombluetoblack,seemedtodiscriminatebetweentruthandfalsehood,Jacobthought,andcrossedhislegssuddenly,observingtheextremeshabbinessofhistrousers.
"Butheisverydistinguishedlooking,"Sandradecided.
AndEvanWilliams,lyingbackinhischairwiththepaperonhisknees,enviedthem.Thebestthinghecoulddowouldbetopublish,withMacmillans,hismonographupontheforeignpolicyofChatham.Butconfoundthistumid,queasyfeeling—thisrestlessness,swelling,andheat—itwasjealousy!jealousy!jealousy!whichhehadswornnevertofeelagain.
"ComewithustoCorinth,Flanders,"hesaidwithmorethanhisusualenergy,stoppingbyJacob'schair.HewasrelievedbyJacob'sreply,orratherbythesolid,direct,ifshymannerinwhichhesaidthathewouldlikeverymuchtocomewiththemtoCorinth.
"Hereisafellow,"thoughtEvanWilliams,"whomightdoverywellinpolitics."
"IintendtocometoGreeceeveryyearsolongasIlive,"JacobwrotetoBonamy."ItistheonlychanceIcanseeofprotectingoneselffromcivilization."
"Goodnessknowswhathemeansbythat,"Bonamysighed.Forasheneversaidaclumsythinghimself,thesedarksayingsofJacob'smadehimfeelapprehensive,yetsomehowimpressed,hisownturnbeingallforthedefinite,theconcrete,andtherational.
NothingcouldbemuchsimplerthanwhatSandrasaidasshedescendedtheAcro-Corinth,keepingtothelittlepath,whileJacobstrodeo